


Imagine: Castiel smites you with a smile.

by webcricket



Series: Castiel Imagines [45]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Smile, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 04:25:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16757899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket





	Imagine: Castiel smites you with a smile.

You can tell by the way their voices carry, Dean’s deeper boom and Sam’s light husky laughter echoing off the concrete and tile-walled halls as you approach the bunker’s library, that the elder Winchester is well on his way to a delirious level of drunkenness and, from the boisterous sound of it, his brother isn’t too far behind. You swear the burnt caramel and oak-bite of Dean’s favorite whiskey wafting in the air is itself enough to induce a buzz.

You deserve the night off - a few cherished hours to cut loose - all of you; although, your idea of a good time falls more within the realm of an unhurried steamy hot shower without anyone going by the name of Dean insisting you _‘Hurry the hell up!’_ precisely three minutes after you switched on water which never stood a chance of getting warm under the time constraints. Must be nice to be a man who wakes up looking runway ready in flannel and faded jeans every morning.

These carefree nights, they’re too far between. 

Rounding the corner, cutting through the map room to the main threshold, uber-soothing essential oil of lavender clinging to still damp skin from the special super expensive organic body wash you save for just such occasions, you’re in search of your seraph’s warm vessel to snuggle. As you suspected, he’s there - at the table beside Sam, yet situated slightly too far from the animated antics of the men to be an active participant. 

Strong shoulders rounded in a relaxed slouch, Castiel’s hands hide beneath the table where you guess the fingers lace loosely across his lap. He watches the brothers swim an undulating sea of booze and boast in the rise and fall of inebriation’s waves over conquests past. The boys are sinking fast, slurring syllables now and again, while the seraph simply sits, silent, observing their easy interaction, and with something rarer than a night off flexing the corners of his mouth upward - a soft smile.

Never could sneak up on the seraph, especially not smelling like you rolled in a field of fresh purple blooms and with a heart thrashing against your ribcage like a caged animal. Catching you staring, his blues shift to find you in the doorway. His smile deepens then, a manifestation of pure sunshine solidifying to skirt stretched pink lips and cut dimpled lines into his cheeks.

You grin back, warmth flushing your flesh at the sight of that stunning smile, bare feet magnetically ferrying you toward him.

The Winchesters stutter sloppy overlapping _‘Hellos!,’_ Dean’s with a superfluous _sweetheart_ attached. 

Flicking a few wet tendrils of hair behind your ear, you flutter your fingers in greeting. “You boys going for a new bunker record for worst hangover?”

“You want in?” Dean quirks a daring brow toward his empty glass.

“Pass.” You pat a palm to Sam’s broad back as you slip past him.

Dean shrugs and pours another round.

Cas unfolds his fingers to catch you about the waist and pull you into his lap. “You were staring,” he murmurs while pressing a kiss to the curve of your neck.

“Was I?” You giggle, squirming at the tickle of scruff. Somehow he manages to make statements of the obvious absolutely endearing.

“Yes.” His words pirouette in exhaled puffs across your skin. “Why?”

Twisting your torso to face him, locking gazes, Sam and Dean fading forgotten to background noise thus reflected in his loving blues, you trace the square of his jaw with a fingertip. “Do I ever need a reason to stare at my handsome boyfriend?”

Forever shy of his vessel’s sex appeal, a rosy blush mantles his cheeks. Lashes lowering, the smile sweetens - so softly sweet and tempting you lean in, smitten, to savor a kiss.


End file.
